


Damaged Goods

by NegaAria, WorldsBestEagle



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Biting, Blood and Injury, Creampie, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Passion, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegaAria/pseuds/NegaAria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsBestEagle/pseuds/WorldsBestEagle
Summary: A mission gone awry leads to unexpected revelations.
Relationships: Falcon Graves/Steelbeak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Damaged Goods

The rain was relentless, and it soaked them to the bone; add it to the ever growing list of things that could have gone better about this particular mission. Falcon’s brow twitched, suit soaked and eye blackened from more than a slight scuffle. There was a scrape on his cheek, a barely noticeable limp in his step, and almost certainly some bruised ribs, but he had fared better than the chuckling rooster currently trailing closely behind him. He really should be used to it by now, but still that laugh grated on his nerves. It wasn’t really that, however; he was angry at himself, frustrated beyond belief and worried about the condition of the man behind him. Sure he was chuckling to himself and probably mumbling something stupid that Falcon couldn’t hear over the rain, but Steelbeak was known to hide his injuries, and too often he didn’t notice them at all.

Injuries or not, they had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, namely to secure not only the package they had procured but their own safety as well. They both knew the way to the safe house by heart and it had become something of a home away from home as of late. The door creaked in that familiar way as the duo entered, finally freeing themselves from the storm and shaking the water from their saturated feathers. Steelbeak settled in fairly quickly as he always did, already pouring them both drinks from the expensive whisky they had stashed away, but Falcon remained glued to the window, eyes methodically searching the darkened streets for any signs of life.

Once sufficiently satisfied that they hadn't been followed, Falcon immediately switched his attention to Steelbeak. There was an instinctive drive compelling him to check on the other man, and knowing he had caught the brunt of the fight they had just been in compounded that concern tenfold. The right arm of Steelbeak's jacket was soaked in blood, saturating the pristine white with crimson gore, but the rooster paid it little mind, occupying himself instead with drying his beak (the one part of himself he took meticulous care of) as he held one of the drinks out for Falcon. He tipped his head curiously at his partner when the offered libation was ignored, seemingly oblivious to the wound on his outstretched arm despite his trembling fingers literally dripping with blood. 

"Jacket and shirt off _now_ ," Falcon demanded, already removing his own coat while rifling in the cupboards for their collection of medical supplies.

"Geez someone's impatient tonight," Steelbeak said before gulping down the drink he had previously presented to Falcon.

“And take it easy on the liquor,” Falcon grumbled, emerging from behind the cupboard door with supplies in hand.

Steelbeak snorted at the implication that two drinks were sufficient to impair his facilities. “Cool it, Graves, not all of us are lightweights,” he teased. He had responded with a smirk but his eyes betrayed hidden pain that made Falcon’s blood boil.

As much as Falcon enjoyed their post mission activities it was currently the last thing on his mind, and Steelbeak’s attempts to treat this like it was nothing only served to put Falcon even more on edge. He clenched the homemade first aid kit tightly, slamming it down on the rickety kitchen table with a frustrated snarl. "Look, you are bleeding bad, and I need access to tend to your wounds. So do try to be serious just for a moment."

The rooster looked down just noticing the blood that Falcon had brought to his attention. He blinked at it as if he had never seen that particular limb before, but he shrugged off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt nonetheless. He dropped himself into the chair that Falcon had pulled out for him and presented his wounded arm to the raptor. "Don't worry so much, that's nothing," he mused.

Falcon certainly didn't think it was nothing. The gash went from his elbow halfway down his forearm, parting tender flesh and exposing the blood and muscle that lay beneath. Falcon did his best to drown out the voice in the back of his mind saying this was his fault. He shook it from his head with a huff, running a hand through his wet hair to remove the stray strands from his face as he spread out their supplies. “Difficult not to worry when you’re bleeding to death all over the kitchen,” he said.

Steelbeak shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Flacon roughly loosened his tie, pulling it free from his neck and rolling up his sleeves while trying to control his frustration. There was little emotion in his face as he began to clean the wound, but behind that stoic stare an excess of sentiment was swirling, and it was growing increasingly difficult to sort it out. “You’re going to need stitches,” he stated distantly.

“Bring it. I bet you sew beautifully,” Steelbeak said with a laugh, tipping his head back so he could smile up at his cohort.

Falcon narrowed his eyes at him but continued threading the now sanitized needle in his hand. “I fail to see what is so funny about any of this,” he grumbled.

“Ah, yer just sayin’ that because _you_ fucked up this time.”

Falcon eyed him irately. “I think it’s fair to say that it was a _joint_ effort,” he replied.

“Yeah, fair ‘nough,” Steelbeak chuckled. “I don’t know though, wasn’t a total fail.” He waited for Falcon to give him that questioning look before continuing with a smirk. “Kinda reassurin’ to be reminded that even the great and perfect Falcon Graves can fuck up.”

“…I don’t recall ever saying I was perfect.”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes. “That was a joke, babes. Lighten up, will ya? You’re too pretty to be so stressed all the time.”

“Someone should stress over you,” Falcon whispered.

Steelbeak could barely even hear it, but they both knew he did. His beak parted and a soft gasp of surprise sounded from within as his caregiver’s fingers began to wander, creeping into his plumage and burying deep in an intimate exploration. Falcon had felt the scars before. Every time they were together that terribly raised flesh taunted him from beneath soft cream colored feathers, tormenting him with questions of their origin. In their line of work injury was common—Falcon had his own hidden wounds after all—but it was menial when compared to the dozens covering Steelbeak's body. A light stroke to his back and they were there, a caress of the chest and still more angry wounds, even his arms were littered with evidence of battle scars hard earned through excessive violence. Falcon frowned, pausing to stroke at one particularly deep wound on Steelbeak’s collarbone. He wanted to know why there were so many, but it was going to take a lot of coaxing to get Steelbeak to open up about it, and neither of them were good with such matters.

Falcon cleared his throat, abruptly pulling his fingers from where they were lingering so he could tend to Steelbeak’s arm. A subtle wince was the only evidence the rooster gave that he felt the needle at all. Falcon expected as much. Even if it hurt far worse Steelbeak was unlikely to show it, so Falcon continued with as much finesse as possible just in case.

That excess of tender care did not go unnoticed and Steelbeak flushed slightly at it as he silently soaked in the attention. It was over far too quickly, and before he knew it, Falcon was cleaning the recently stitched injury and applying gentle pressure while he expertly bandaged his arm up.

"There that will stop the bleeding. Hold your arm level and try not to jostle it." Falcon told him firmly.

Steelbeak looked his arm over. "Thanks," he said, pausing to rub at his new bandages before adding, "Heh, no one's ever done that for me before. Not even once all those times they made me fight..." he admitted before going quiet.

Falcon looked the rooster up and down somewhat tentatively before meeting his eyes again. "Is that were all your scars are from?" he asked.

Steelbeak’s feathers bristled as his body tensed, mouth opening momentarily only to snap shut once again with an audible clank of blood stained steel. Falcon’s frown deepened. He wanted his partner to open up to him, possibly more than he had ever wanted anything, and he couldn’t just let it go, not now when that door was finally cracked open just waiting to be thrown free of its hinges.

“It’s okay,” Falcon whispered. There truly wasn’t anything else he could think of to say, but it was all that really needed saying anyway.

Steelbeak laughed forlornly. “It’s okay,” he repeated under his breath too quietly for Falcon to hear. "Yeah, they’re from fightin’,” he continued with a sigh. “Most of 'em anyway. I don't think about it much anymore but I got hurt a lot in my cock fight days."

Shock and pain shook Falcon to his core and he could barely hide it. His feelings for the other man ran deep, probably deeper than he was willing to admit, and with Steelbeak sitting there finally willing to reveal his painful past the need to nurture grew even deeper. Falcon wished he knew what to say, but there were no words he could think of that seemed appropriate. Instead he placed a hand on Steelbeak’s shoulder effectively dragging his attention from the spot on his bandaged arm that he was staring blankly at. 

“They treat you like a piece of meat ya know,” Steelbeak said, eyes finally focusing back on Falcon. “Chew ya up and throw the scraps to the dogs. They lure you in with promises of money and some sorta fucked up family, and then they never let you go.” Steelbeak paused, rising from his seat to refill his abandoned whiskey glass. “You really wanna know about all that, Graves?” 

“Do you want me to?”

Steelbeak cocked a brow. He hadn’t been expecting that and his eyes tipped skyward as he considered it. A somewhat uncomfortable expression settled on his face, but he nodded in spite of it.

“Then yes,” Falcon replied quietly.

Steelbeak inhaled deeply, leaning against the cracked counter behind him and downing his drink before letting free a lifetime of pain that he had kept inside for decades. He wove a seemingly endless tale of violence and objectification that made Falcon’s blood run cold and his stomach churn uncomfortably. Essentially abandoned as a child, Steelbeak had been cock fighting from the time he was sixteen until he was arrested and put in prison for participating in the highly dangerous and illegal sport. It was kill or be killed and Steelbeak’s survival bore testament to his perfect record. He never lost his matches, but he had come close to losing enough times that every one of those old wounds was a symbol of survival to him. They were a reminder of when he was revered and respected for his fighting prowess, a badge of honor that distinguished him as a champion of the underground. He confided in Falcon how a part of him missed those days because back then he was valued and feared while now he only felt like a failure and a nobody.

That made Falcon’s thoughts stir even more. More than that it made him furious at everything that had ever harmed his companion, but he buried that fury so that Steelbeak could see nothing but the empathy in his eyes. “And you have never told anyone about this?”

Steelbeak shook his head before dumping the now empty liquor bottle carelessly into the sink. "Only Bradford and Heron know, that's why they broke me outta prison and gave me a new life with FOWL." He lowered his eyes and looked away as he picked self-consciously at his bandages. "I just thought my skills would get me more respect."

Falcon couldn't believe what he was hearing. That confession was not at all what he was expecting, and it had his brain fumbling for words yet again. Still, this revelation awakened something different inside him, a need to nurture and protect, and suddenly it no longer mattered that he didn’t know what to say. The words didn’t matter, only the feelings did, and his entire demeanor changed in an instant. His brow furrowed at the now slouching and dejected rooster, but Steelbeak refused to meet his gaze, cringing further and flushing at the weight of Falcon’s stare.

Falcon finally moved closer, walking with purpose perhaps only because his partner’s eyes were currently so fixated on his feet. He cupped Steelbeak’s face in his hand and stroked his cheek tenderly. "I had no idea."

Steelbeak leaned in to that gentle touch but still wouldn't look at Falcon. "Don't worry ‘bout it," he mumbled.

But Falcon did worry, and disturbing though it was, Steelbeak’s tale did help fill in a lot of pieces to why he acted the way he did. That overzealous nature, the tendency to approach things with no finesse or planning, his constant need for affection and praise: it all made a lot more sense when placed in the context of Steelbeak’s rather morbid upbringing.

The lump in Falcon’s throat grew just thinking about what the other man had been through. He took Steelbeak's face in to both his hands forcing the rooster to look at him. " _I_ respect you," he told him gently. “And you’re more than just a set of fists and fancy face hardware.”

Falcon wanted nothing more than to see the cocky arrogance return, to bring Steelbeak back from the dark place he was obviously in. It could be seen so clearly now that he was finally looking into his eyes, and Falcon was desperate to help. Instead Steelbeak looked away, trying once again to conceal his psychological wounds. Falcon leaned in to kiss him but Steelbeak pulled away altogether; he got up without a word and brushed past his partner towards the makeshift bedroom in the rear of the abandoned building.

Falcon reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping Steelbeak in his tracks. Sad eyes turned upon him and Falcon could feel his heart breaking. He squeezed Steelbeak’s hand in comfort but he did not return the hold. "I'm sorry for making you dig up such bad memories," Falcon said.

Steelbeak sighed. "Not your fault I'm damaged goods,” he said, pulling his hand free of Falcon’s tender grasp. “Let's forget about it and go to bed… I'm tired."

The trip to the bedroom resumed, and Falcon followed silently, unsure what to do or say at that point. He just wanted to see his partner smile; for so long now he had taken that smile for granted and now he wanted it back. A terrible pain had formed in his chest, a manifestation of guilt, and it was proof of how awful he felt to be the reason Steelbeak was currently upset.

Falcon scanned the room they had just entered in an attempt to distract himself. He searched for threats, unnecessary though it was, and didn’t stop until his brain was convinced that nothing was amiss. Everything certainly seemed in place. The same broken dresser stood by the door in the same state of disrepair as before, that mystery stain was still in the same spot on the celling, and although dingy and scratched both of the room’s small windows were still intact.

Steelbeak flopped down on the bed with a huff, worn springs creaking beneath him as he put his hands behind his head. He stared for a good long moment at the ceiling, eyes fixated on that strange stain and unwilling to acknowledge that Falcon was standing there awkwardly watching him. Falcon couldn't leave things like this but he didn't know what to do. He wasn’t even sure if Steelbeak wanted him there at that point, but just before he could suggest sleeping on the couch in the other room the rooster finally spoke. "Ain't ya coming to bed? You gotta be tired too."

Falcon opened his mouth but no words came out so he settled for a sigh. He sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers clenched anxiously and head deep in thought. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to risk making things worse. Time seemed to stop, making it impossible to tell how long he had been sitting there, but soon strong arms wrapped around him, and Falcon instantly relaxed as Steelbeak pulled him close. He hadn't even heard the other man move but he was glad he did. That familiar metal beak was quick to nuzzle his cheek as a deep trill sounded within Steelbeak’s throat causing his whole body to vibrate. It expressed what Steelbeak couldn’t find the words for. It said that none of this was Falcon’s fault, and it soothed both their frayed nerves. Falcon was thankful for the contact and welcomed it with a relieved exhale, enjoying the closeness of his partner. He shifted his position in the younger man's arms, facing Steelbeak and staring deep into his eyes. He wanted him to see how much he cared and in that moment his eyes reflected nothing but sorrow and regret. Without a word passing between them, Falcon expressed how sorry he truly was.

"You told me no one was there to tend your wounds,” Falcon said.

“Nah, you pretty much just lick ‘em and call it good,” Steelbeak said with a sarcastic laugh.

“Well…I’m here now.” For a split second Falcon was sure Steelbeak was crying despite visual evidence to the contrary, and he impulsively grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together tightly. “You didn't deserve that life and if I could change the past I would."

Falcon was usually a bird of few words and yet here he was now, clenching his fellow agent’s hand and pouring his feelings out in a way Steelbeak previously thought him incapable of. The words kept coming and they wouldn't stop, leaving Steelbeak’s mind struggling to keep pace as he stared at Falcon with shock and awe. There was never anyone to care for him in the past, not really, but here Falcon was wanting desperately for him to know that he did have someone now. A friend, possibly more if he was willing to admit it, and the tears finally came at the realization that Falcon really was sitting there admitting that he cared about him on more than just a professional level. 

Falcon gently wiped away the faint trail of tears, coaxing Steelbeak to focus on him again. "I never would have let anyone hurt you like that, and as long as you're my partner no one ever will again."

Those words lingered between them as Steelbeak searched Falcon’s eyes for any hint of deception. Finding none, his fingers tightened around Falcon’s and he shifted closer. This time he went in for the kiss and Falcon accepted it greedily. Wrapping his arms tighter around the rooster, he pulled him flush to his chest, feathers fluffing at the contact and heart beating faster. Without breaking the kiss, Steelbeak pulled the raptor on top of him and Falcon was quick to straddle his hips. He practically purred at the way the younger man instantly latched onto him, gripping at his thighs as if to pull him even closer.

Those hands were always something of a mystery. They were large and calloused, ragged from years of abuse yet somehow soft in an unearthly sort of way. They were capable of killing (and they had), but yet they were the source of the most gentle contact Falcon had ever experienced. Such gentle hands tarnished with the scarred proof of so much violence. That thought brought a frown to Falcon’s face. He was very adept at memorizing things which was often handy in his line of work, but sometimes that eidetic memory forced him to recall painful things as well. Things like the location of each and every scar adorning Steelbeak's body. It stuck in his head like a morose roadmap, and he wished more than anything that Steelbeak didn't have them at all, not because they disgusted him, but because he wished his partner had never endured such abuse and pain. He wished he could take that terrible past away.

Instead, Falcon did the next best thing he could think of. He traced each scar with a light touch, starting with Steelbeak’s left shoulder and working his way across his neck with diligence and care so that not one mark was missed. Every touch was followed with soft kisses and gentle preens, tender contact that set forth to heal long closed wounds. No matter how hard he tried his touch could not make them disappear, but that didn’t stop Falcon from continuing the attempt.

Steelbeak gasped when he realized what Falcon was doing. He trembled at those touches, already reduced to a needy, panting mess just from that small bit of affection. The panting grew heavier as Steelbeak buried his fingers in Falcon’s hair, running the digits gently through those dark strands just to let him know just how much the contact was appreciated. So many scars were concealed within those ivory feathers, but Falcon didn't miss one, and his attentiveness did not go unnoticed.

Slowly making his way down the other man's torso, Falcon continued caressing and preening, giving each scar special attention as if it were a delicate treasure deserving of the greatest care. By that time Steelbeak was practically gasping for air, the intense intimacy of that moment rendering him almost incapable of containing his need. By the time Falcon’s beak reached the hem of those custom tailored pants it was more than apparent that the rooster was rock hard, and Falcon met the sight with a hungry grin. He glanced up at Steelbeak and was met with pleading eyes filled to the brim with desire. Luckily, Falcon had come to the end of that hidden trail of wounds and without breaking eye contact he began to unfasten the simple closure that kept him from the reward he was lusting for.

Steelbeak’s cock sprung forth, freed from its prison and desperate for attention. He thrust his hips forward begging for more, and Falcon smirked. "Someone's impatient tonight," he said, echoing the other man's statement from earlier. His voice was teasing, sultry and low, but he didn't really plan on making either of them wait any longer than necessary for what they both clearly wanted.

A deep and needy groan rumbled from Steelbeak’s chest. "Come on babes, don’t tease. I need your mouth on me _now_ ," he begged, grasping hard at the bed sheets and arching against his partner.

Those words were all Falcon needed, and with that he wasted no time devouring the entirety of that hard length. Steelbeak crowed loudly in response, back bending further to press himself as deeply into Falcon’s mouth as possible. The rooster normally wasn't so quick to orgasm but he was pent up and it showed in just how much of himself he let go in Falcon's throat, but the raptor didn’t miss a drop; he swallowed greedily, milking musky essence from his partner and savoring that enticing flavor. Falcon licked him clean, careful to catch every drop. He would never say it out loud, but he loved cum and Steelbeak's brand was particularly exquisite.

Steelbeak’s chest heaved, fingers still twisted in sheets and he stared down at Falcon with half-lidded eyes. “I need you,” he whispered.

Heat flooded into Falcon’s chest, his manhood pressing tightly against his zipper and begging to be set free. He shuddered with a needy growl, grabbing a fistful of Steelbeak’s pants in both hands and yanking them lower. There was a momentary pause for Falcon to enjoy the view before he switched his attention to Steelbeak’s shoes, helping the rooster kick them off so that his pants could be removed properly. Once the currently unnecessary garment was discarded on the floor, Falcon quickly returned to where he had been previously perched, thighs spread on either side of Steelbeak’s hips as he leaned down to press their beaks together once again. Once more the faint flavor of metal filled his mouth, mixing with insatiable need as they kissed one another deeply. Steelbeak growled in his throat, pressing even closer and ripping Falcon’s shirt open.

“Hey!” Falcon barked, breaking the connection and straightening his back. “I told you to stop tearing my shirts!”

“Too much clothes,” Steelbeak snarled, obviously not even a little concerned with the wellbeing of Falcon’s outfit. He buried his fingers in the soft feathers of Falcon’s stomach with a purr of approval, tracing them down lower until he was just barely stroking the impossibly silky feathers hidden in his crotch.

Falcon huffed, mildly annoyed despite the way his body was tingling from the attention. “You really are incorrigible, you know that?” he said.

“Don’t know what that means, and don’t care,” Steelbeak replied, gripping Falcon’s shirt and pulling him back down to continue their kiss. It was briefer and rougher than the last and it showed quite clearly how desperate Steelbeak’s need really was. In that single instant it grew from uncontrolled to unbearable, and there was no longer any hope of controlling it. He clung to Falcon, thrusting against him with a gasp and fumbling with his pants. “Fuck, I need you,” he whined. “ _Please_ , I-I just need you really bad!”

The mood abruptly changed as Steelbeak grew truly frantic, pulling Falcon uncomfortably close and biting at his neck while he continued the attempt to unfasten his pants. Falcon squawked in a mix of excitement and concern, groaning in relief when Steelbeak freed his erection but still attempting to stop the rooster’s suddenly manic fingers. He pushed Steelbeak back against the bed and pulled his hips higher into his lap as he bent over him. “Calm down,” he ordered, keeping his trembling partner in a firm hold while gently stroking his cheek. “There are a few steps between the fondling and the fucking you know.”

Steelbeak flushed deeply, embarrassed to have let his need run so rampant. “Sorry,” he mumbled, suddenly afraid of scaring the other man away.

Falcon pressed their foreheads together, rubbing softly at the blush on Steelbeak’s face. “I’m here,” he said, “and I am not going anywhere.”

Steelbeak didn’t even know he needed to hear that but it calmed him at least for the moment. “Y-yeah,” he said with a shaky laugh. “You are,” he added under his breath when Falcon pulled away once again.

The raptor hardly went far, in fact he didn’t even move from the bed, but Steelbeak clung to his feathers as though Falcon might actually leave him. He occupied himself with preening Falcon’s chest as the other man rifled through the small end table beside the bed. Steelbeak could hear the soft curses coming from Falcon’s throat as he failed to recover the item he was after from what suddenly seemed like an impossibly deep drawer. It was a good bet that Steelbeak’s actions had something to do with Falcon’s current lack of finesse, and he smirked at the implication that in some way Falcon needed it as badly as he did. There was something comforting in that, and Steelbeak smiled into his partner’s plumage as Falcon finally retrieved the small bottle of lube he had been hunting for.

The grin on Steelbeak’s face faltered when Falcon moved away yet again, but he could hardly complain with such a gorgeous bird of prey staring down at him with such a lustful smile on his face. It was practically predatory, yet still affectionate, and Steelbeak grinned back when Falcon began pulling off his shirt. He certainly made a show of it, removing the garment slowly with great care to show off every muscle as he did so despite the way it made his sore ribs ache. The brief display was enough to make Steelbeak’s mouth literally water, but he needed more, and the way he thrust against Falcon demonstrated just how deep the craving was.

Happy to oblige, Falcon discarded his shirt, nibbling and preening Steelbeak’s chest as he snuck suddenly slick fingers beneath his tail. Steelbeak gasped when a single finger instantly delved deeper, holding Falcon tightly and spreading his legs further in an obvious demand for more. Falcon purred deep in his chest, switching his attention to Steelbeak’s neck as he slowly pressed a second digit inside his partner. The penetration was tender and sensual, probing with purpose to cause maximum pleasure with minimal discomfort, but it in that moment all it did was cause more frustration.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it usually went. It was such a contrast to their usual adrenaline-fueled trysts that Steelbeak was starting to wonder if he had done something wrong. It was unlikely, Falcon certainly showed no evidence that was the case, but Steelbeak couldn’t silence that voice of paranoia in his head. That voice forged from years of accrued abandonment issues and fear of rejection constantly telling him that he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t stifle it no matter how hard he tried, and in that moment the only thing that would soothe Steelbeak’s nerves was the most intimate of physical connections.

“Damnit, Falcon,” Steelbeak whined. “I’m good, just do it!” Falcon cocked a concerned brow at him but before he could say anything Steelbeak was pressed close, face buried in his chest begging frantically into his feathers. “Just fuck me already!”

“NO.”

Steelbeak’s expression soured. He pulled himself abruptly from Falcon’s feathers, glaring up at him as his body continued to tremble with need. “Whaddya mean no?!”

Falcon leaned in close, pressing their beaks together and staring deep into Steelbeak’s eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you,” he said gently but sternly.

The anger was gone, and for a split second Steelbeak’s face conveyed only confusion and hurt, but it faltered quickly, his face blushing when Falcon moved closer yet again. The raptor slipped his beak sensually through Steelbeak’s feathers, moving in an almost unearthly way along flushed flesh before stopping so Falcon could whisper intimately. “This time I’m going to make love to you.” 

Steelbeak’s eyes widened, sparkling with happy tears but still conveying a depth of shock that was indicative of how foreign this was to him. His face burned so deeply that he thought it might literally catch on fire. That saturated shade of crimson looked rather good on him Falcon mused, but he didn’t mention it, instead spreading his fingers in a way that made Steelbeak moan loudly.

“Let me take care of you,” Falcon whispered.

Those teasing digits slipped in further, rubbing expertly against Steelbeak’s prostate. He dropped his head back in a silent moan, metal beak parted as he gasped in pleasure. Falcon’s fingers curled delectably making him chirp in a way Falcon had never heard before. He pulled from within him a vocalization of need so candid and vulnerable that it left Falcon breathless, and he wanted more; he wanted something even more intense.

Steelbeak hardly needed much preparation and based on the state of his once again throbbing cock he was more than ready. Falcon pulled his fingers free with an animalistic growl, gripping Steelbeak’s hips hard and lining himself up with a few strokes to his own cock. He didn’t bother asking if his partner was ready as that had already been made abundantly clear. A sharp thrust of the hips and Falcon was buried to the hilt. In spite of the deep desire to be tender, they were both famished for something only be stated by that intimate joining, and in that moment the need was too great to bother with tact.

Falcon panted heavily against Steelbeak’s feathers ruffling them as his partner moaned against his ear. There was something amiss in that sound and it had Falcon turning confused eyes upon the bird beneath him. His eyes were clenched shut, teeth dug into his cheek and hand pressed hard against his mouth. It took Falcon’s lust-drunk mind a moment to decipher what exactly was going on, but he soon realized that Steelbeak was trying to keep himself quiet. Falcon felt momentarily guilty to know that he had apparently forced his partner to contain his voice enough times that it was starting to become habitual.

Falcon’s fingers slipped over Steelbeak’s, pulling them gently away from his mouth. “That will not be necessary this time,” he said, “Just let go. I want to hear that gorgeous voice.” 

There was some level of uncertainty in Steelbeak’s eyes as he let that sink in, but he eagerly complied during Falcon’s next thrust, throwing his head back and letting out a gasp of pleasure the likes of which neither he or his partner had ever heard him make before. For a split second there ceased to be any distinction between reality and the all-encompassing madness of pleasure. Sound and sight failed and the only anchor to the real world was the strong and steady form gyrating against him. Steelbeak clung to Falcon’s feathers tightly, gripping to lucidity as tightly as he could to prevent missing even a moment of the encounter. He continued that delightful song of pleasure, pressing back against Falcon with every thrust and feeding his predatory desire with every aroused trill he let forth. This was definitely different than usual and Steelbeak wanting nothing more than to make it last forever.

Sadly, no amount of desire could twist the boundaries of biology, and it was obvious that Falcon was incapable of extending the moment beyond his limits. “I’m coming,” he groaned into Steelbeak’s neck, gripping the other man close as he made good on that statement. He filled his partner to the brim as he growled out his orgasm, and Steelbeak rolled his hips with every pulse of falcon meat inside him. His moist passage clenched rhythmically against his partner, savoring every ounce of essence that Falcon had to give. Steelbeak smiled drunkenly, panting with excitement and savoring the intense aroma of coitus for just a moment before unexpectedly attacking.

Falcon’s eyes widened, mind struggling to process how he was suddenly on his back and pants-less, but he didn’t exactly complain when Steelbeak began to stroke at his tail. Large fingers boldly teased those impossibly silky feathers, gently parting the down surrounding the hidden territory that few had ever even gotten close to. Steelbeak savored the view, licking his beak and stroking his dick as he continued to tease his now quivering companion. Blood rushed to Falcon’s face when the rooster leaned in closer pressing his hot and aching cock against that tender entrance. 

It obviously wasn’t offensive to Falcon, but there was a warning tone in his slightly narrowed eyes that clearly communicated the message the Steelbeak already knew. He chuckled between his aroused panting, stroking Falcon’s cheek gently. “Relax, babes. I got you.”

The added wink he offered didn’t exactly ease Falcon’s concern, but all thoughts of resistance were abandoned the moment Steelbeak began to thrust roughly against him. There was no penetration, but there was something equally intense about it that had the normally dominating bird writhing with desire. Falcon stifled a groan, shuddering at the feeling as his tailhole was quickly coated in freely flowing pre. The orifice twitched against Steelbeak’s girthy member as Falcon pulled him close, grabbing a mouthful of the rooster’s shoulder and clenching hard with a feral growl.

Steelbeak cried out loudly at the hold, but it was not a vocalization of pain so much as a statement of approval. He was glad that making love didn’t mean they had to be soft, and just the thought of marking the other man as his own just as Falcon had done to him was too tantalizing to resist.

The way Steelbeak muttered unintelligible sweet nothings into Falcon’s ear as he came could be easily added to the list of unusual things about this particular encounter, but it was not at all unwelcomed. Falcon moaned contentedly, clenching his beak harder against Steelbeak’s skin as he savored the sensation of cum spurting deep into his tail feathers. The once rough and rapid thrusting gradually slowed to long, drawn out movements that sought to leech every last ounce of pleasure from their mating. Falcon finally released Steelbeak’s flesh, switching the rough hold to gentle preening as his panting partner slowly came down from his orgasmic high.

All at once, Steelbeak’s strength seemed to give out, and in one swift motion he collapsed on the bed and pulled Falcon to his chest. Once again the larger bird seemed surprised to be yanked around so easily, but his contentment was obvious in the way he nuzzled into Steelbeak’s plumage and leisurely stretched his cum-drenched tail feathers. It was impossible not to smile stupidly at the sight when Steelbeak was so aware that it was a side of Falcon that only he was privileged enough to see. It made him feel special, and it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from showering Falcon with affection that would likely only scare him away. Deep down Steelbeak knew that he was quickly becoming far more invested in their relationship than Falcon, but in that moment he could so easily imagine that it would be this way forever. He hugged Falcon tightly, grin growing when the other man returned the embrace, albeit lightly.

“That was different,” Falcon mused lazily as Steelbeak leaned over to retrieve one of his cigars from the side table.

“Mmm,” Steelbeak hummed as he inhaled from his freshly lit tobacco. “In a good way…right?”

Falcon was too busy basking in the afterglow to notice the way Steelbeak began to fidget nervously, but the trembling fingers stroking his hair were enough to communicate how badly the other man currently needed reassurance. “Very much so,” he answered with a satisfied smirk.

Steelbeak perked up instantly. “Yeah?” he asked with poorly hidden excitement. “Sooo, that mean we can switch it up next time?”

Falcon chuckled at the excited tone and flirty petting. “We will see.”

“I’m takin’ that as a yeah,” Steelbeak replied, leaning back against the headboard and smoking smugly.

“Really want a piece of my ass, don’t you?”

“Heh, maybe I jus’ like stuffy British dudes,” Steelbeak said with a teasing smirk.

Falcon snorted softly, tipping his head to stare up at the other man. “Oh, yeah?” he said.

Steelbeak took a deep inhale from his cigar, grin extending as he replied. “ _Oh_ , yeah.”

“Hmm, well,” Falcon hummed, moving to support his weight on his arms so he could press his beak into his partner’s feathers, scattering soft kisses along his toned chest. “Maybe I like loudmouth Americans with retched accents.”

Steelbeak snickered in that obnoxiously adorable way of his. “Coulda fooled me.”

"Well, I like you anyway," Falcon whispered, returning his head to rest over Steelbeak's heart.

It was calming, that strong and steady beat, constant and comforting it soothed the doubts in Falcon’s mind, lulling him into the most restful sleep he’d had possibly in years.

It was the first truly honest admission from Falcon that he wanted to be more than just friends, and despite no actual words to that affect, Steelbeak heard the message loud and clear. A barely there sheen of tears twinkled in his wide eyes as he stared down at his peacefully snoozing partner. Little by little his beak twitched into a smile, shakily growing until he was beaming down at the bird resting in his arms. “Yeah,” he said as he squeezed Falcon tighter, “I like you too.”


End file.
